


I want you to know that (I want you, you know that)

by frenchkiss



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Daddy Kink, Fluff, Hair Kink, Hair-pulling, M/M, Smut, So much fluff because Ziam means the happiest of endings always
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-25
Updated: 2014-09-25
Packaged: 2018-02-18 18:40:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2358191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frenchkiss/pseuds/frenchkiss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I was just growing it for a change, like, I’ve been wearing it like this since X Factor basically and I dunno, I just wanted to see what I’d look like. But you were just, like,” he pauses. “You were twisting it in this way and it just went straight to my dick.” He shrugs again. “Is that weird?”</p><p>“Not really,” Liam tells him, his thumb collecting up the spunk from Zayn’s cheek. He feeds it between Zayn’s lips and Zayn rolls his eyes but slurps it down happily. “Not weirder than when I get you to tie me up. Or when I bend you over my knee. It’s just a kink, innit? Whatever gets you off.”</p><p>“You get me off,” Zayn says, like he feels it’s something he needs to justify but Liam shakes his head and kisses him again, long and slow.</p><p> </p><p>Or the one where Zayn's growing his hair so him and Liam explore some new kinks, including a particular one that Zayn's wanted to try since The X-Factor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I want you to know that (I want you, you know that)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ziamxo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ziamxo/gifts).



**September 2014**

It all starts with an Instagram photo.

 

They’re sat in their hotel, Liam’s legs sprawled across Zayn’s lap as they both type away on their phones. But then Zayn’s leaning forward and holding his phone up, snapping several photos in quick succession.

 

“Poser,” Liam snorts at him. Zayn gives him a look but doesn’t say anything, simply leans back and starts typing away again. Liam doesn’t think anything of it, assumes he’s sending a Snapchat to one of the lads down the hall or something. He scrolls through twitter a bit more and then closes it, then opens up his Instagram (his actual Instagram where he can actually follow his boyfriend and not be noticed among his other million followers) where of course the first thing he sees is the photo.

 

“Hashtag long hair?” he reads aloud, looking up at Zayn. Zayn nods.

 

“Yeah, look,” he says, gesturing to his headband like it’s obvious.

 

“It’s not a patch on Harry’s, babe,” Liam points out, leaning forward to ping at it. Zayn scowls and bats him away.

 

“Well, I dunno,” he pouts. “I wanna grow it for a bit, like, proper.”

 

“So it looks like Harry’s?” Liam asks, locking his phone and setting it on the arm of the sofa.

 

“Obviously it wouldn’t look like Harry’s, Leeyum,” Zayn says with a roll of his eyes. “But, like, I think it’d look cool.”

 

“It would look cool,” Liam says sincerely, because he’s pretty sure that Zayn could wear a suit made of plastic bags at this point and it’d still look cool. “Fuck, no, you’d look amazing, if I really think about it, like proper amazing.” He scrunches up his nose adorably as he pictures Zayn with slightly longer hair, just long enough to sweep up into a little bun at the back like Harry’s been wearing his recently and he licks his lips.

 

“You think it would look _proper amazing?”_ Zayn says in a teasing copy of Liam’s accent. “Do you, babe?”

 

“I do,” Liam says with a nod. His smile grows as he starts to picture Zayn with his hair down and shoulder-length, flipping it back so it’s out of his face. He’s not sure anything in this world could be prettier. “In fact, I think you should grow it, like, proper long. Like longer than Harry’s is now.”

 

Zayn’s expression goes from teasing to surprise. “Really? Would that even suit me?”

 

“Yes,” Liam says quickly. He shuffles forward and tugs the headband back off Zayn’s head, dancing his fingers through the thick fringe to get it to sit back how it normally does before he pulls two strands of his fringe down so they tuck just under his cheekbones. “You’d look like some kind of Disney prince.”

 

Zayn grins. “Got a cartoon kink all of a sudden? Fancy a piece of Flynn Rider, do we?”

 

“No, just you,” Liam grins back. “But you should grow your hair, love. Not only would the fans go crazy but, like, so would I.”

 

“You have such a way with words, darling,” Zayn says with a fond shake of his head. “And the fans might not even like it, you know how mean they were about Louis in a headband.”

 

“But that’s because Louis isn’t you,” Liam argues. His eyes go wide and he claps a hand over his mouth. “Shit, don’t you _dare_ tell him I said that.”

 

Zayn just grins, pressing himself closer into Liam’s side and hiding his smile in his shoulder. Liam leans into it happily and blindly reaches for his phone, unlocking it and opening Instagram back up to scroll through the comments.

 

“Tell me the fans already love it,” he says, holding the phone between them.

 

_Thank you for existing_

_FUCK MY PUSSY UP_

_MY SEXXXYYYYYYYY_

_Can you fuckin stop pls? your face is beautiful but you’re killing me_

_Your boyfriend Liam loves you just as you are honey <3_

_What is air_

“What were you saying about the fans not liking it?” Liam titters. Zayn flips him the finger but Liam just darts forward and sucks it into his mouth, eyes wide and blinking innocence as he pulls off slowly.

 

“You’re a terrible person, Liam James,” Zayn groans, wiping his finger on Liam’s t-shirt. “Remind me why I fell in love with a dribbler?”

 

“Remind me why I fell in love with a sarcastic arse?” Liam deadpans. Zayn snorts and kicks Liam’s legs off him, standing up with a click of his back.

 

“Well? Do you want to squeeze in a fuck before we go to meet the lads?”

 

“You don’t have to make it sound like it’s a chore,” Liam grumbles, but follows Zayn into the bedroom anyway.

 

“Never a chore when it’s with you, babe,” Zayn smirks as his hands grope at Liam’s bum and he kisses him, tugging him so their hips align. Liam can’t help but grin because nothing makes him happier than kissing Zayn, whether they’re just kissing to be close or whether there’s the promise of a fuck at the end.

 

But then Zayn’s moving from his lips, kissing down his jaw and towards his neck, making Liam sag and his breath go pathetically ragged.

 

And then he’s dropping to his knees.

 

“Zayn,” Liam groans out as Zayn’s deft hands pull at the drawstring of his trackies, pushing them down almost painfully slowly so they bunch around his ankles. Zayn grins up at him and marches him back towards the wall so his back is supported before his fingers start to tease the waistband of his boxers. “Zayn,” Liam moans again as his fingers slide in just enough for Zayn to move his fingers through the thick nest of Liam’s pubes, almost getting to where Liam wants him but not quite.

 

Zayn continues to tease, pressing kisses along where the waistband sits and eventually pulls them down, sliding them down his long legs tortuously slowly so they join Liam’s joggers. Liam takes a deep breath, preparing himself for the heat of Zayn’s wonderful, _wonderful_ mouth but it doesn’t come just yet.

 

Instead, he just continues to nose at Liam’s crotch and Liam groans, fisting both hands in Zayn’s hair as best he can, given one of his hands is pretty fucking useless with this fucking cast on. He tugs hard with his left hand and Zayn whines, looking up at Liam with wide eyes.

 

“Keep your hands in my hair, yeah?” he says in a low voice. All Liam can do is nod, tightening his hand again and using it to coax Zayn forward, who finally, _fucking finally_ opens his magical mouth.

 

People always tell Liam how incredibly lucky he is that his boyfriend may actually be the most objectively beautiful human being on planet earth (and even if they’re not saying it directly to Liam himself, he knows exactly what the fans think), but none of them know when Zayn truly looks at his most beautiful and that’s definitely when he has a mouth stuffed full of Liam’s cock.

 

“Oh, fuck, _fuck,”_ Liam hisses as Zayn presses down slowly, slowly, as far as he can go until he’s got his mouth meeting where his hand is gripping the base. “Shit, Zayn, _Zayn.”_

Zayn digs his fingers into one of Liam’s thighs and starts to bob his head, taking as much of Liam in as he can. He keeps up his almost painfully slow pace, humming and grunting around Liam’s length happily as Liam clenches and unclenches his hand, the other one in the cast pathetically resting on the chest of drawers to at least give the illusion of some leverage.

 

Zayn’s hair is just so soft under his fingers and it’s a beautiful contrast, the softness beneath his fingers against the harsh tight wetness around his dick. Liam’s in heaven and Zayn is ethereal, his eyelashes sparkling with the wetness of tears as he continues to slurp at Liam’s length.

 

Liam can’t tear his eyes away from Zayn’s face, particularly for the reactions he makes when Liam tugs at his hair. They’ve been in a relationship long enough for Liam to know almost all of Zayn’s kinks and he’s always known that he likes having hands in his hair, but now it’s longer, long enough to twist and tug and properly fist his hands in… Liam is completely awed.

 

Zayn pulls off Liam’s length to lick a fat stripe up his shaft, a mess of spit and precum dripping onto his chin as he does so and Liam nearly comes on the spot because Zayn is so _beautiful_ it’s almost unfair.

 

“Alright up there?” he croaks and _fuck,_ his voice is wrecked because of what Liam’s cock did to him. Liam nods feebly and Zayn grins, opening his mouth wide again to take Liam back down, flicking his wrist in that way that he knows will send Liam hurtling over that edge. Liam moans, taking his bandaged wrist and tracing his shaking fingers across Zayn’s cheek where he can feel his cock through the tight skin. Zayn groans as he does so and doubles his efforts, mouth tightening around him.

 

Liam’s fingers trail down to Zayn’s bottom lip, pressing it down with his thumb before he lets it flick back up against his length. He whimpers and Zayn slides off again, pumping at Liam harder now.

 

“Come on my face,” he rasps and Liam whimpers again, bringing his cast hand back to Zayn’s hair and just _tugs_ as best he can. Zayn lets out an almost unholy moan and Liam comes, knees buckling as he shoots all over Zayn’s cheeks and nose, hands staying fisted tightly in Zayn’s tangled mane.

 

“Shit,” he hisses as he comes down from his high. He pants heavily, untangling his fingers carefully from Zayn’s hair. He drops down to his knees carefully, knocking Zayn’s head up from where it’s bowed and he too is panting. His face is a mess of all kinds of bodily fluids but he’s biting at his bottom lip like he’s really pleased with himself and his eyes are sparkling.

 

“You don’t blow me nearly enough,” Liam grins, kissing Zayn’s mouth despite the mess on his chin. “Do you want me to blow you?”

 

Zayn flushes, despite the fact he looks like the cat that got the cream. “You don’t need to,” he croaks, voice weak.

 

“Well, I want to,” Liam protests, hands going to Zayn’s own sweatpants. He shoves a hand into Zayn’s boxers and starts when he feels the sticky wetness of cum on his fingers and he pulls back, surprised. “You…?”

 

Zayn shrugs, lip still trapped between his teeth as he flushes. “The hair thing, I dunno,” he shrugs again. “I haven’t done that since, like, X Factor.”

 

“I’ve never made you come in your pants?” Liam pouts.

 

“Well, _obviously_ you have, but, like, if we’re, like, grinding against each other or whatever but not, like, just from blowing you like this,” Zayn says, kissing the pout off his face. “Just, like, what you were doing in my hair felt really good and I just, I dunno, I couldn’t help myself.”

 

“Like I’m gonna complain, because, you know, it’s fucking hot,” Liam snorts, dropping down so he’s sitting cross legged and tugging on Zayn’s wrist so he crawls into his lap. “Can I ask, is that why you’re growing your hair?”

 

“It wasn’t,” Zayn says, resting his head on Liam’s shoulder and smirking as he gets cum on the collar of his shirt. “I was just growing it for a change, like, I’ve been wearing it like this since X Factor basically and I dunno, I just wanted to see what I’d look like. But you were just, like,” he pauses. “You were _twisting_ it in this way and it just went straight to my dick.” He shrugs again. “Is that weird?”

 

“Not really,” Liam tells him, his thumb collecting up the spunk from Zayn’s cheek. He feeds it between Zayn’s lips and Zayn rolls his eyes but slurps it down happily. “Not weirder than when I get you to tie me up. Or when I bend you over my knee. It’s just a kink, innit? Whatever gets you off.”

 

“ _You_ get me off,” Zayn says, like he feels it’s something he needs to justify but Liam shakes his head and kisses him again, long and slow.

 

“I know,” he murmurs. He shrugs again. “So next time we fuck, I’ll pull your hair. Well, I’ll pull it as best I can with this piece of shit.” He waves his cast around. “I can’t wait to get this off.”

 

Zayn gives him a look. “Your own fault, you twat. How many times have I told you you’re not a professional dancer?”

 

“Enough,” Liam says with a roll of his eyes. “But is that something you want me to do? Pull your hair when we have sex?”

 

Zayn hesitates but nods. “Like, we can just try? I dunno if it was a thing before we just talked about it or whatever. I dunno.”

 

“We’ll play it by ear then,” Liam says, kissing his temple. “Love you.”

 

“Love you more,” Zayn says, even those that’s against their rules. “But I think you got cum in my eye.”

 

“Sorry,” Liam smirks. “Next time I jizz on your face I’ll try and aim better, I promise.”

 

“Good boy,” Zayn says. He sighs. “I wish you could join me in the shower.”

 

“Same,” Liam says, pouting again. “Only five more weeks of this shitty thing though. Then I’m all yours.”

 

“I should hope you’re all mine anyway,” Zayn grumbles, shuffling out of Liam’s lap and tugging down his ruined trackies. “Now pull your pants up, Payne, and order me some dinner.”

 

Liam smacks his arse on the way to the bathroom and pads out of the bedroom with a stupid grin on his face.

 

**November 2014**

Liam is three fingers deep inside Zayn, spread out on their _own_ sheets in their _own_ house at long fucking last. Zayn’s got both hands fisted in the duvet underneath him, a blindfold around his eyes and his legs are spread wide with his arse slightly raised, Liam fucking his fingers in and out of his stretched hole at a steady pace. He feels slutty and he’s _so_ turned on, his cock blurting precum onto the bed sheets where it hangs hard and heavy between his legs.

 

Liam pulls his fingers out suddenly and Zayn lets out a slutty mewl, arse pushing back to but taking nothing. He whimpers but the sound is nearly fucked right out of him as he feels the tip of Liam’s dick breach his entrance, his fingers digging into Zayn’s hips as he slowly pushes in, inch by inch.

 

Liam lets out a groan at the feel of Zayn’s tight heat slowly sheathing its way around Liam’s dick, spurred on by the lovely sounds falling from Zayn’s lips. It’s been ages since Liam’s been in control like this – with his cast on he was happy to let Zayn take the reins for a while – but now he wants to hold Zayn properly by the hips and just _fuck_ him like he hasn’t in so long.

 

With that in mind, he presses Zayn down harder and after carefully pulling back, he fucks back in hard, hands moving to Zayn’s shoulders so he can get a decent leverage. He snaps his hips up and grinds his cock inside Zayn’s arse, relishing in the perfect moan Zayn lets out when Liam finds his prostate.

 

“Fuck yeah, so good,” Zayn whines, back arching as he tries to take Liam deeper from his position. He raises himself up on his hands and tilts his head back and that’s when Liam gets the idea.

 

He hesitates for a second, because he knows Zayn’s always liked a bit of pain during sex but he’s always a bit reluctant because he’s been working out a lot recently and sometimes he feels like he doesn’t quite always know his own strength. But when they did this in the States Zayn was really into this so he pushes aside his worries and takes a deep breath.

 

He shuffles himself forward on his knees, making sure Zayn’s supported enough with his other hand and then runs his other hand through Zayn’s long hair and _tugs._

Zayn lets out a moan unlike anything Liam has ever heard before, his hole clenching tightly around Liam like a vice. More precum blurts from Zayn’s dick and he hears Zayn let out a laboured breath before he grits out a nearly incoherent “harder.”

 

“Harder?” Liam repeats, unsure if he heard. “You want it harder, babe?”

 

“Pull my hair harder, daddy,” Zayn pants, his knuckles nearly white from where they’re gripping the duvet so tightly.

 

Liam groans loudly and complies; grabbing a bigger handful and twisting his wrist around so Zayn’s head is pulled right back because he can’t ever say no when Zayn uses that word. His back arches and every muscle in his arms ripple as his fingers tighten in the sheets and he whines loudly.

 

“You like that?” Liam asks, twisting his hand again. Zayn whimpers and nods, groaning again as Liam’s hand tightens in his hair again. “Like it when it hurts, baby boy?”

 

“Yeah, yeah, daddy, fuck,” Zayn whines, pushing back on his knees to try and get Liam to fuck him properly again. “Make it hurt.”

 

Liam tugs his hair again, this time keeping his head held back as he fucks him. Zayn goes from making moans and whimpers to just taking it, his breathing ragged and speeding up as Liam pistons his hips harder.

 

“Daddy,” he hears, barely audible over the skin slapping skin and the own ringing in his ears. He bends down and kisses over Zayn’s sweaty shoulders before he tugs again.

 

“This what you want, baby? This how you want it?”

 

“Please, daddy,” Zayn groans as he nods furiously. Liam moves his hand further back so he’s pulling at a different section and Zayn near howls, chanting out a garbled mess of “yes, daddy, daddy, _please!”_

 

Zayn’s tightening around him now as he nears his orgasm so Liam works harder, dropping his hair to wrap a hand around Zayn’s leaking cock. He pumps sloppily and gradually pushes him over the edge so he’s coming all over the duvet with a near animalistic cry of pleasure.

 

Liam lets go of his dick and grabs his hips, fucking him hard and fast until he comes himself, crowing out a “fuck, baby, _fuck!”_ as he collapses on top of his spent boyfriend.

 

“You okay, baby?” Liam asks as he pulls out carefully, rolling Zayn over to look at him. Zayn’s still panting but he’s grinning dopily like he almost always is after they play a bit and Liam can’t help but duck down to kiss him happily, hand carding through his hair.

 

“Thank you, daddy,” Zayn says softly into Liam’s chest. “Liked it.”

 

“Good boy,” Liam murmurs, stroking Zayn’s hair from his eyes and kissing his forehead. “Daddy liked it too.”

 

He lies there with his hand running through Zayn’s sweaty hair while Zayn purrs for a few minutes, letting him come back from his sex-hazed mind-set before he pulls back, eyes racking over Zayn’s face.

 

“How’s your scalp?”

 

“Fine,” Zayn grins. “That felt really good, babe. Like honestly, I haven’t come that hard in ages.”

 

“Are you sure?” Liam says again, because he has to make sure. The first time he had tried spanking Zayn and he’d ended up sobbing then so had Liam, even though Zayn spent two hours afterwards cuddling him and promising they were good tears (“release tears, baby; I liked it, I _promise_ you”) but Liam doesn’t like hurting anyone ever, least of all Zayn.

 

“Yeah,” Zayn reassures, smoothing out the crease between Liam’s eyebrows with his thumb. “If I wanted you to let go I would have told you to, wouldn’t I?”

 

“I know, but…”

 

“Liam, baby, stop thinking too hard. I liked it and I’d want you to do it again but only if you want to, okay?”

 

“Well, I mean, of _course_ I’ll do it again if you want me to,” Liam says, exasperated.

 

Zayn doesn’t say anything for a second, just manoeuvres them so it’s him holding Liam rather than Liam holding him.

 

“If you don’t want to do it, I won’t make you,” Zayn says again. “I just… I feel that there’s something you aren’t telling me, babe. And obviously I’m not gonna make you tell me but I love you and if you really don’t wanna do it then we can leave it, I promise.”

 

“It’s not…” Liam sighs, hiding his face in Zayn’s neck. “It just… Your hair is so…”

 

“Do you not…” Zayn hesitates for a second, “do you not like it long?”

 

“No, that’s not it,” Liam moans because he feels dumb and foolish and _stupid_ for suddenly making this connection while lying in bed after just having the most amazing fuck with the person he loves so much. “It’s just, you know when my hair was that length?”

 

“I remember it well,” Zayn says fondly. “First thing I noticed about you, babe.”

 

“Yeah, well,” Liam coughs nervously. “Just, like, god, this is so dumb, it shouldn’t matter.”

 

“But it does,” Zayn coaxes, cupping Liam’s cheeks in his hands. “I love you and it matters to me.”

 

“Just…” Liam lets out a long exhale. “The kids at school just used to tug at it and stuff when they used to hurt me, that’s all. They said it was easy thing to hold onto while they used to grab it and throw me against walls and stuff.”

 

Zayn growls low in his throat and Liam tries to hide the burning in his cheeks by rolling over but Zayn holds him close, stroking down the back of his neck.

 

“I fucking _hate_ those fucking lowlife pieces of shit,” Zayn hisses. “How fucking dare they?”

 

“Zayn, it’s fine, I just…”

 

“No, _no,”_ Zayn snaps, kissing him quiet with a harsh press of lips. “Your curls were so beautiful, Liam. I hated it when you used to straighten them and obviously I love your hair now but your curls made you shine, darling. You were so _you_ with those curls.”

 

“We weren’t… we weren’t even dating when I had my hair like that,” Liam croaks out.

 

“Doesn’t mean I didn’t still think about snogging your stupid face off,” Zayn grins cheekily. “No, but seriously, Liam, if it makes you uncomfortable pulling my hair then just don’t, okay? It won’t affect our sex life, I promise.”

 

“But I want to,” Liam whines. “Don’t you see? That’s the problem! I _hated_ it when people did it to me so why do I like doing it so much to you?”

 

“Because you know I trust you,” Zayn states, nuzzling his nose into Liam’s cheek. “I like it when you do it and I want you to feel like you can. Fuck those bullies, babe, nobody ever makes my baby feel like shit.”

 

“I was your daddy fifteen minutes ago,” Liam says, cracking a small smile. Zayn grins and kisses him again.

 

“Yeah, alright, smartarse.”

 

They lie there for a few more minutes, Liam tracing Zayn’s tattoos with his fingers before he clears his throat again.

 

“So you really liked my long hair, um, did you?”

 

Zayn grins into Liam’s cheek. “Yes, babe. Like, so much. Was fuming the day you shaved them off.”

 

“That was, like, three days before I kissed you for the first time,” Liam says, pulling back with furrowed brows.

 

“I was mad at you, doesn’t mean I stopped fancying you,” Zayn says with a shake of his head. “And I love you like this, babe. I love you anyway, but you’re so, like, manly and you’re so _fit_ but I dunno, curly Liam will always have a special place in my heart.”

 

“I love you so much,” Liam tells him, because he’s sappy and Zayn is his rock and his baby and his soulmate all at once and sometimes he’s still not sure what he’s done to deserve him on top of this worldwide fame and success he’s somehow earned. “You always know the right things to say.”

 

“Just saying the truth, babe,” Zayn says. “Now can you flip the duvet around so we’re not sleeping in spunk and cuddle me? I’m getting chilly.”

 

Liam kisses him one last time and pulls out of his arms to do just that. He curls up around Zayn, wrapping his arms around his waist and falls asleep easily with his favourite boy.

 

**February 2015**

It wasn’t even like Liam thought about consciously doing it.

 

It was just something he started doing without realising. He stops going to Lou and asking her to re-shave the sides of his head. He stops quaffing it every morning and just sort of lets it hang light and messy across his forehead. It’s nice.

 

By this point, Harry’s hair is nearly reaching the birds on his chest and Zayn’s…

 

Just thinking about it is enough to make Liam’s mouth water. It’s just long enough for it to have a nice, natural bounce when he walks; not quite long enough to put in a bun but Liam knows that’ll come in the next few months.

 

It’s been a nice few months – they’ve had them off so Zayn and Liam have spent a lot of it holed up in their private house in London, doing very little that involves wearing clothes and leaving their bed.

 

That’s where they are now, completely fucked out and unable to move. They’re off on tour again soon and it’s likely that they’ll be back to fumbled hand jobs in bus bunks and quick, adrenalin-high fucks before they collapse on top of each other exhausted after a show. It therefore seemed the logical thing to do to spend the days leading up to the tour fucking each other stupid and as a result, Liam’s arms hurt (from spending most of round four trying not to drop Zayn) and his arse hurts and his back hurts and he thinks his eyes would probably hurt if he could open them.

 

He’s propped up against the headboards and he wants to crawl under the duvet and sleep but they lost the duvet to the floor somewhere between round two and round three and the sheet is definitely too wet for them to sleep comfortably on from a pretty disgusting combination of sweat and spit and lube and cum that Liam really isn’t sure he’d find any comfort in lying his body down on it properly.

 

Zayn’s lying with his head on Liam’s little tummy, still panting and sex-dazed. Liam can feel each of his exhales against his belly button and he’d probably squirm if he had the energy. Shame he doesn’t.

 

“I can’t feel my arse,” Zayn huffs into his happy trail after a while. “It feels like I just have a huge gaping hole where my arse once was.”

 

“That’s such a lovely image, babe,” Liam mumbles. His mouth still tastes like the strawberry lube he just ate out of Zayn’s missing arse. He can’t decide if it’s really gross or hot that he quite likes it there. “I hope you do still have your arse, I’d be sad if you didn’t.”

 

“You fucking top,” Zayn says, rolling over with a dramatic noise to show Liam just how much effort it is.

 

“We should shower,” Liam says, cracking an eye open and staring down at his boy. “Also we’re not sleeping in here. This bed is disgusting.”

 

“You’re disgusting,” Zayn groans, digging his chin into Liam’s pudgy belly. “And if we’re showering you’re holding me up because I don’t think I can stand.”

 

“Fuck that,” Liam huffs out a laugh, closing his eyes. “The best I can offer is maybe carrying you to the guest room but you’ll have to give me twenty minutes.”

 

“Not gonna stay awake for another twenty minutes,” Zayn whines. “Carry me now, get it over with.”

 

“You’re so needy,” Liam whines back. “I want a nice, quiet, passive boyfriend. Might trade you in for Louis.”

 

Zayn slaps him on the thigh and pouts until Liam eventually shuffles down so he’s lying next to him face to face and he kisses him softly.

 

“Your mouth tastes like arse and lube,” Zayn tells him, wrinkling his nose as he pulls back. “And don’t you dare trade me in for Louis.”

 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Liam grins. He slides gracelessly off the bed, winces as his sore bum hits the floor and then uses the bed to support himself to stand up. He pads into their ensuite to clean his teeth because the taste of arse is no longer as endearing as it was and, on an afterthought, wets a flannel under the warm tap and rubs it across his cum-streaked belly and his sore arse. He drops it in the sink, puts his toothbrush back in the pot and wets another one for Zayn, limping back into the bedroom.

 

Zayn’s eyes are closed and his head is lying dangerously close to a puddle of something so Liam gently crawls over him and starts to clean him down, ignoring his whines and the weak finger flipped sleepily in his face.

 

“Come on, you lump,” he coaxes, dropping the flannel onto the ruined sheet and wrapping Zayn’s legs around his waist, leaning forward so Zayn can put his arms on Liam’s shoulders. Zayn does so, slowly, clinging to him like an exhausted limpet as he stumbles backwards and towards the door.

 

“Leeyum!” Zayn whinges loudly as Liam stubs his toe on the corner of their bedroom door and nearly drops him. “Be careful.”

 

“My hair’s in my eyes,” Liam complains, trying in vain to flick it from his eyes. Zayn keeps one arm around Liam’s shoulders but flicks his hair out of his eyes for him, kissing him in between them.

 

“What was that for?” Liam asks as he finally crashes them into the guest room, dropping them both unceremoniously onto the guest bed.

 

“Can’t I just give my man a kiss without a reason other than that I love him?” Zayn asks innocently, shuffling up the bed so he’s lying against the pillows. “You look cute, that’s all. I love your hair at the moment too.”

 

“Yeah?” Liam asks, hands going up to fluff it.

 

“Yeah, like a lot,” Zayn grins. “Are you gonna keep going it?”

 

“I dunno,” Liam shrugs. “I hadn’t really thought in all honesty.”

 

“Keep it,” Zayn nods and then yawns. “Keep it until Lou throws a hissy fit.”

 

“Okay,” Liam says, pulling back the duvet and sliding them both into the cool sheets. “If you say so.”

 

“I do say so and I’m always right, babe,” Zayn says with another yawn. “Night, Li, love you.”

 

“Love you,” Liam echoes, curling up into Zayn’s chest where he belongs.

 

When he wakes up the next morning, it’s to Zayn running his hand through his fringe gently.

 

“Morning, babe,” he croaks. Zayn hums but doesn’t stop petting at his hair.

 

He lets his eyes drop closed again and thinks about how nice it would feel if his hair was just a little longer.

 

**July 2015**

The sun is burning hot on his back and he can feel the sweat dripping down him almost unpleasantly but he doesn’t move, doesn’t think he can for the ache in his bones. It’s better this way, just to sit and enjoy and not think too much about the fact that Sophia’s having to stay in the condo down the road and he has to go out and take ‘candids’ with her later, leaving Zayn here to do fuck all but wait.

 

It’s been a hard as hell few months and they’ve hardly had any time together between song-writing schedules, fitting Zayn in around Little Mix’s schedule, press releases and another fragrance. They’ve barely kissed properly in days, let alone had sex or anything of the sort and these past few months have been hard for them both. Tour was long and they’ve just been too busy to be them so this holiday is incredibly needed and deserved.

 

His eyes are closed and he’s halfway to sleep when he feels a sudden loud noise and then a splurge of cold on his back. He yelps and tries to turn over but Zayn’s hand is firm on his back, rubbing in the sun cream he’s just squirted on him in in soothing circles.

 

“Only me,” he says cheerily. “You were burning, babe. Didn’t want you to burn on the first day so you have to spend the next thirteen lying just on your tummy.”

 

“Thank you, love,” Liam murmurs, nearly groaning at how nice Zayn’s deft fingers feel across his tight skin. “I love your magical hands.”

 

“Creep,” Zayn snorts. His hands keep working into Liam’s skin, gradually working their way up Liam’s back until they reach the back of his neck, gently brushing his feathery curls out of the way. “Didn’t think I’d ever have to worry about getting sun cream in your curls, that’s for sure.”

 

Liam moves a hand to his hair self-consciously. “Why?”

 

“Didn’t think you’d actually let them grow,” Zayn shrugs. His hands keep rubbing up Liam’s back and Liam practically purrs because it feels so damn good, ignoring the low tug of self-consciousness in his belly.

 

“They really suit you, you know,” Zayn says a few minutes later, hands now moving to Liam’s arms. “This hairstyle was always so _you,_ I fucking love it.”

 

“Yeah?” Liam asks, cracking an eye open. “Management hate them. So does Sophia.”

 

Zayn’s hand stills and Liam squeezes his eyes shut and sighs because he’s a fucking moron. He knew he’d fuck up on the first day, he fucking knew it.

 

“Shit, Zayn, baby, I didn’t mean…”

 

“S’fine,” Zayn says, brushing his words off quickly. His fingers start moving again but they’re slower and it feels more like they’re moving for something to do rather than anything else. “I don’t really give two flying fucks whether they like it or not, to be honest. I only care if you like it.”

 

“Zayn…”

 

“They don’t own you, Liam,” Zayn cuts him off, fingers tightening around Liam’s bicep. “If you like your hair like that then I want you to keep it like that. _God,_ they’re so… it’s bad enough that we’re on our fucking holiday after they’ve paraded us around for fucking months and they make you fucking…”

 

“Hey, Zayn, hey.” Liam gently extracts Zayn’s fingers from him and rolls over, sitting up so he can wrap an arm around Zayn’s back. He rests his head on Zayn’s shoulder and cuddles him in. “I don’t know why I said that because I don’t give two flying fucks either. That’s why I haven’t shaved it off again.”

 

“But you will,” Zayn mumbles, turning his head to rest it against Liam’s. “I’m sorry, babe, but there’s only so much of their badgering you’re able to take.”

 

Liam sniffs. “I don’t… I like it but I don’t, babe. This isn’t even about their badgering, like…” He sighs. “I’m… I’m not you, or Harry.” His hands go and toy with the tiny bun at the back of Zayn’s head. “I can’t take it like you can, I don’t…”

 

“Liam,” Zayn says, turning and putting a solid hand on his cheek. “Do you want to keep your hair long?”

 

“I… yes. But also no.” He sighs again. “Not in this weather.”

 

Zayn snorts and presses their lips together quickly. “Do what you want for _you._ I’m still going to love you if you grow it to your knees or if you shave it off again, I can at least promise you that.”

 

“It’s just…” Liam tries again, because the nice, tranquil illusion of them getting away from everything has already been shattered and it’s only day fucking one. “I don’t understand why I get so much hate for everything I fucking do. I try so hard; I mean, you saw all those Tumblr posts about people missing my curls but then I grow it out a bit and it’s all _you look so fat. You are disgusting. Why would someone want to date you with that hair?”_

“Because people are fucking cruel,” Zayn says sadly, slotting their fingers together. “And it’s not fucking fair, we all know it’s not.”

 

“And on top of that, Management are always on my case, telling me to either lose the weight or lose the curls and it’s like…”

 

“Listen,” Zayn cuts in, slapping Liam’s cheek lightly. “It’s fucking unfair and we’ve known this for nearly five years now. We just need to, like, keep fighting them. Keep your fucking curls, it’s your fucking hair.”

 

“I know, I just…” Liam sighs again, letting his eyes drop closed. “It’s easier to give in sometimes. Like you and your arm. Like, you really didn’t have to but you did because it just… I’m tired of fights and being talked to like we’re still seventeen and all that. I just…”

 

“The arm thing happened because it was easier that way to convince them to let me have you.” Zayn squeezes his hand. “I’d tattoo I LIKE GIRLS on my fucking forehead if it meant I still got to be your boyfriend, you know? I did what I thought I had to, Li.”

 

“Fuck, this is so fucked up,” Liam sniffs. “We shouldn’t have to have a conversation like this at all, let alone over some stupid haircut, let alone on the first day of our fucking holiday.”

 

“I love you,” Zayn says. “I don’t care about anything but you, okay? You’re just… I just love you.”

 

“I love you too,” Liam shrugs. “That’s enough, isn’t it?”

 

Zayn smiles sadly. “Yeah, babe, it’s enough. I don’t give two flying fucks about anything as long as I have that, to be honest.”

 

“You’ll always have that,” Liam says, pressing their lips together again. He strokes over Zayn’s head, tucking some loose threads behind his ears. “You’ll always have me, Zayn.”

 

“I can’t bloody believe I ended up in a relationship with someone who I’m constantly forced to get this sappy with,” Zayn says, knocking their foreheads together and fisting an almost possessive hand in the back of his curls. “Fuck, Liam, I just… I wish you could see you how I see you.”

 

“What do you mean?” Liam asks.

 

“Just… you just… you make me so bloody happy all the time and you’re such a beautiful soul and person and you’re my best friend and I… it just makes me so upset that you feel you need to change the way you look for anyone but yourself.”

 

“You as well,” Liam mumbles but Zayn shakes his head against his.

 

“Like, I’m growing my hair for me, right? S’nice to have a change and I’ve had the same hair for, like, our entire career. So I’m growing it, no big deal. You happen to like it and it gets you off so win-win. But it’s my hair and I wanna grow it.”

 

“I don’t get what you’re saying. Even if I said you hated it you’d keep it?”

 

“I’m not saying you wouldn’t sway me, babe, but, like, it’s still my hair. I like it. It’s kind of like… kind of like me getting a tattoo you don’t like.”

 

Liam nods slowly.

 

“So the point I’m really trying to make is you don’t owe the fans or Management or even me jack shit, babe. If you want to keep your hair curly, keep it curly. If you want to shave it off again, shave it off.”

 

 “I… I might,” Liam mumbles sadly. “Because I like that you like it but that’s all really. I don’t want to add to the negativity I get every fucking day, I just…”

 

“That’s completely your call, love,” Zayn says, running a thumb across his stubbly cheek. “I’ll miss it but you’re still my Liam. Pure and simple.”

 

Liam smiles softly and leans forward to kiss him again because he loves him so much sometimes he doesn’t know what to make of it. Zayn’s familiar lips are like his haven, his happy place and he lets himself smile into the kiss, letting his tongue lick inside Zayn’s hot mouth and his hands draw him in closer.

 

“I mean,” Zayn says as he pulls away quickly, “I still get them this holiday, right? You’re not going to make me sheer them off in the ensuite, are you?”

 

Liam snorts. “Am I fuck. This is our holiday away from the bloody bullshit; if you want me to keep my hair like this then it’s all fucking yours until we have to go, babe.”

 

Zayn grins wider than he has all holiday, pressing both his palms into Liam’s face and kissing him harder, deeper. Liam kisses back with just as much bite, trying to move them as best he can from his position so they’re lying on their sides next to each other. Zayn’s warm in his arms, with his skin soft and sweaty and just asking for Liam to taste it.

 

They kiss for a long time, the relaxed atmosphere slowly coming back as Liam lets himself focus on Zayn and the fact that they’ve actually got this wonderful private house to themselves for the following weeks (even if they do have to make it look like they don’t but that just comes with the contract). It’s lovely, really, and Liam is definitely going to ride Zayn in the hot tub later, he’s already decided.

 

Zayn bites hungrily on his bottom lip and Liam’s eyes jump open. Zayn’s staring back at him with his own gorgeous eyes, pupils blown and sparkling with want. Liam quickly rolls them over so he’s on top, legs straddling Zayn’s so he can hover over him and stare down.

 

“Can I blow you out here?” he asks. “Or do you wanna christen the bed?”

 

He smirks as Zayn whines, taking pleasure in knowing that he has a bit of an exhibitionist kink and loves it when they’re able to do things outside (even if it’s usually on high hotel balconies where nobody can tell or in secluded villas in the middle of Aruba).

 

He traces slow kisses down Zayn’s jaw, down past his neck and his collarbones. He sucks bruises around the tattoos and leaves the skin raw and reddened in its wake as he rubs his stubble into the skin in that way he knows Zayn loves.

 

Zayn’s just so responsive, mewling and whining as Liam’s mouth does its job and Liam can already feel himself getting hard from just the noises alone. It’s one of the things he loves most about sex with Zayn, the way every sound he makes is like fucking music to his ears and his cock, the way that making each other fall apart makes them both fall apart in turn.

 

He takes his nipple in his mouth and swirls his tongue around it, biting down until he feels it harden. He trails wet kisses down Zayn’s abs as he shuffles himself down, eventually pulling himself off of Zayn’s lap so he can kneel on the balcony floor, bringing Zayn’s body down so his feet are flat on the floor and he can sit nestled between his legs at the bottom. He fingers the waistband of Zayn’s swimming trunks teasingly, pressing more wet kisses into the tattoos on his hipbone until Zayn moans and moves his hands down, taking a gentle fistful of Liam’s curls and manoeuvring his head upwards.

 

“Stop being such a bleeding tease, Curly,” he huffs. Liam looks up from the bruise he was sucking with a pout.

 

“That’s Harry’s nickname, you twat.”

 

 “Ah, yes, but I don’t really want Harry to suck me off, love,” Zayn grins, lifting his hips so he can slide his trunks down with his other hand. “Come on, Liam, put your mouth on me.”

 

Liam bites at the bruise for good measure before he adjusts his position, his mouth finding Zayn’s nearly fully hard dick straight away and taking him almost straight down to the base. Zayn groans and tightens his hand, the other gripping at the sun lounger as Liam bounces his mouth up and down

 

Zayn once said Liam looks like the devil sucking cock and filmed him doing it once, so Liam knows he looks absolutely obscene; his lashes lying heavy on his cheeks, his lips stretched wide and sweat dripping down his temples. Now he thinks he must look even more obscene because his curls are out in full force and Zayn’s breathing heavily, eyes lidded but unable to move from Liam’s face.

 

“Fuck, baby,” he groans out, his hand tugging tighter in Liam’s curls. “This is, like, the worst fantasy ever you’re filling. Me fucking the mouth of seventeen year old you.”

 

Liam just hums around his cock in response, trying not to smile because he knows that’ll make him gag. He moves his hands carefully behind his back and holds them there, their agreed signal to let the other fuck their mouths so Zayn groans and tentatively moves his hips up, groaning as he hits the back of Liam’s fluttering throat.

 

His other hand comes up to sink into Liam’s curls and guides him this way, bouncing his head up and down carefully.

 

“If you want me to stop with the hair… just… tap my knee or something… yeah?” he pants out. Liam hums again, but the thing is he knows he won’t; he wants Zayn to get off on his curls before he cuts them off, wants to make Zayn come down his throat and fuck his mouth and claim him in more ways than one.

 

So he keeps bobbing his head, keeps slurping around his length and keeps letting out low, throaty moans that make Zayn groan in turn. He just wants to make him come, wants it more than anything, wants to feel him when he’s out with Sophia later so everyone asks him why he’s rasping and sore.

 

“Li, Liam, baby, I’m so… _fuck,_ I’m close,” Zayn grunts so Liam tightens his mouth, sliding down so he’s taking him as deep as he can. Zayn’s hands are almost unbearably tight in his hair but it’s unbearable in a good way, unbearable in a way like his love and his want for Zayn is. He doubles his efforts, moaning loudly as Zayn hits the back of his throat again, ignoring the way his cock is aching between his legs and the need to come is sitting hot and heavy in his belly.

 

Zayn wails loudly as he comes, yanking a hand out of Liam’s hair to slap over his mouth even though they’re the only ones around for a good few miles. Liam pulls back off his length, drinking down all he can of Zayn’s salty cum, thumbs rubbing over his hipbones as Zayn gasps for air.

 

“Come here,” he manages to get out and Liam shuffles forward on shaky legs, sitting himself in Zayn’s lap so Zayn can shove a hand down his boxers and jerk him until he comes all over his fist. He rests his head on Zayn’s shoulder, one hand gripping at his bare back and they pant it out together.

 

“Shit,” Zayn grins into his neck. “That was, like, my filthiest fantasy come true.”

 

“What?” Liam wheezes, still not quite capable of coherent thought.

 

“It was like seventeen year old Liam sucking me off with the added bonus of knowing that twenty-one year old Liam loves me on top,” Zayn smirks. “Fuck, that was good.”

 

“You seriously thought about me sucking you off when I still had that hair?”

 

Zayn sighs exasperatedly. “Liam, I’ve literally been in love with you since I was seventeen years old. You were the only thing I wanked over all during X-Factor, Daddy Direction.”

 

“Gross,” Liam cackles, pushing Zayn back down onto his back so they’re lying chest to chest. “I didn’t even know what sex was then.”

 

“I wanted to corrupt the living fuck out of you,” Zayn continues, licking his lips cheekily. “I think about it a lot, you know. You would have been so fucking eager because you were so damn eager back then, so happy and desperate to make everyone happy. It would have been a blowie to remember, that’s for damn sure.”

 

“I hate you, you’re so embarrassing,” Liam moans, hiding his blush in Zayn’s sweaty chest. “You’re pretty disgusting too.”

 

“Yeah, well,” Zayn grins, “you’re the one who just let me live this fantasy out, babe.”

 

“Oh, fuck you,” Liam huffs, coughing a few times to try and get the feeling back in his throat, not that he really minds. “I’m glad you enjoyed it anyway.”

 

“I’m not the one with cum drying in my pants,” Zayn reminds him, bopping him on the nose. “You’re my favourite, you know. My favourite ever.”

 

“You’re not so bad yourself,” Liam says, kissing his shoulder before he lies down next to him, wrapping his arm over his waist so they can doze and cuddle properly. The real world can wait, he thinks.

 

(Zayn tackles him as he gets out the shower a couple of hours later and gives him the biggest lovebite he’s possibly ever given him up against their wardrobe for when he goes out with Sophia. She wrinkles her nose and says she doesn’t want to know but she squeezes his hand and gives him a special happy grin because he knows she does feel for them both.)

 

(Later, he fucks Zayn into the mattress until Zayn murmurs “Daddy Direction” into his ear and they both have to stop for a few minutes because they’re laughing so hard. He’s so happy he could burst.)

 

**August 2015**

“And you’re sure you want me to do this?”

 

Liam nods again, stroking the hand through his curls one final time. “I just think it’s time to say goodbye. It’s just… it isn’t me anymore, you know?”

 

“Thank Christ, because if I have to listen to Louis make one more Daddy Direction joke I might hit him,” Lou says as she plugs in the clippers.

 

“I thought we agreed no more Daddy Direction jokes ever, not after that night in Tokyo,” Niall shudders from across the room as Caroline takes some measurements. “Oh god, no, I’m remembering it again. Fuck, make it stop!” he whines.

 

“Oh shut up,” Liam says, trying to hide his smirk. He beams into the mirror as he sees Zayn come into the room. “Hello, baby.”

 

“Enough!” Niall near yells. Zayn twitches his nose, confused, and just ignores Niall, plopping himself down in the chair next to Liam.

 

“Just came to bid the curls goodbye,” he says mournfully, pouting as he strokes through them for the last time. “Gonna miss them.”

 

“I’m not,” Lou says as she starts up the clippers, batting Zayn’s hand away before she drives through the middle of them in one smooth movement. Zayn whines and Liam smiles as he reaches for his hand.

 

“Gonna be all rugged again though,” he says, flexing his bicep and winking at his reflection. “Think about that.”

 

“Can you take the foreplay elsewhere?” Lou groans. “My child is running around somewhere, please.”

 

“Alright, alright,” Liam says, squeezing Zayn’s hand again. “I’m sure there’s a cupboard or two around here we can go to in a few minutes.”

 

“Now, you see, Daddy Direction would never have made a comment like that,” Zayn smirks. Niall and Lou both make noises of despair.

 

It takes a few minutes but then Liam’s head is freshly shorn and he runs a hand over it, nodding at his own reflection. He just looks a lot more like himself like this and he likes it.

 

Zayn’s hand runs along his newly shaved head alongside his and he leans into the touch happily.

 

“I like it,” he says simply. “Gonna miss your curls though. Maybe I should buy you a wig to use in the bedroom.”

 

“Oh my god, get the fuck out,” Lou says, pushing at Liam’s shoulders with a shake of her head. “You’re both hideous. _Hideous!_ ”

 

Zayn takes his hand and tugs him out of there and into the corridor, smirking as both Lou and Niall shout after them. He stops when they’re out of earshot, pushing him up against a wall and kissing him happily.

 

“You look good,” he murmurs against Liam’s lips. “So good I kind of want to ruin you. Is that wrong of me?”

 

Liam’s fingers move up to Zayn’s little bun and he undoes it, his thick black hair falling out so it frames his face beautifully and Zayn ducks his head, smiling at the floor. “Never wrong, love,” he grins as he gently tilts his head up for a kiss. “We have forty-five minutes until the interview, what do you think about finding that cupboard?”

 

They don’t end up finding a cupboard that locks but Zayn’s happy smile and lips on his is enough. It’s everything, really.


End file.
